Mistake
by onwingsofsnark
Summary: Jon's been gone five years in the military, fighting a war he never wanted, and now he's back. But things have changed. Are changes good or bad? Or both? ONESHOT


**A/N: I don't know what inspired this one-shot, but it did. I'm not sure what type of fairytale this is, just know that Jon (the main character) is like a knight in shining armor (only common-born) and Kay (his sweetheart) is like a princess.**

**Only this time… ah… well… I won't tell you. The title gives away a lot of it.**

**Read, and review.**

_Mistake_

He walked along a worn path. He could see the footprints of travelers long gone and of hoof prints from long-dead horses. He smiled at the dappled sunlight through the trees and heard the birds softly singing in chorus. It was a happy day.

He had been gone a long time.

Five years past, he had been drafted into a war. He had been sent to the medical tents and had seen the deaths of his best friends. He had seen men survive the goriest wounds because they held onto whatever kind of faith they held, and he had seen men die of mere scrapes because they had lost faith in whatever they held dear.

He had grown.

Three years ago, he had been sent into battle. His warmates had died next to him, and he had killed with his dagger. He had nearly died twice over, never giving up.

He had a sweetheart at home. She promised she would wait.

One year ago, his battalion had been demolished. He was the only survivor and after being found, was released. He walked home. He knew he wasn't the carefree boy of sixteen years.

He was a man, and he wanted his home back. He had defended it with his life, and wanted dearly to belong to it.

He whistled an old tune from his golden childhood and smiled at the old song. His mother had sung it to him when nightmares had overtaken him. She had sung it when his father died from fever. She had sung it when he had been drafted.

He smiled and his steps were lighter.

-

The sun was setting. It shone red, gold, purple and pink. He laughed aloud as he exited the forest he'd been walking through. He sat down and watched the light display on the western sky. Five years ago, he would have done this. For five years he'd been unable to see it, worrying about the other warriors jumping out and stabbing his back.

As if to mock him, the sun turned blood red and disappeared behind the rolling hills. Just over those hills, he knew, was his hometown. It held all his dreams, passions and beliefs. That town is what had kept him alive in the war.

And he was glad to be home.

Slowly he pulled out his army-issued sleeping furs and crawled into it to sleep. He fell asleep in his normal half-awake mode, the one he'd learned when he joined the army.

-

Morning shone brightly, like his mood. He washed briefly in the stream he had followed and brushed the travel dust from his clothes. He packed up in with ardor and nearly ran the whole way home.

There were walls around his perfect city now. There were guards at the gates and children worked outside the walls.

Was this truly his town?

It had grown, like him, in five years. He knew that a year before he had left, there had been a large epidemic, a fever. So… how had it grown so much? He guessed they'd struck some sort of valuable commodity and had grown wealthy off it.

He strode up to the gates, the guards there were looking quite board. He smiled at them and started to walk past. One of the guards put a pike out just as he was going to pass. Confused, he turned on the guard.

"May a man not walk freely into a city anymore?" The vagabond asked acidly. This was _his_ place. They had no cause to keep him out.

"Not a man who's so friendly." The pike-wielding guard countered. "We've had trouble with smiling faces, and you look the part."

The traveler sighed. "I've come home from war. Am I not allowed to be happy?"

"That war ended three years ago." The other guard replied lazily. "You've been gone a time or two if you still want to come 'home'."

The traveler bowed his head. "Am I allowed to pass, or must I scowl to gain your trust?" He mock-scowled.

The guard that stopped him rolled his eyes. "Pass on through, trekker. Next time, we'll be less friendly."

"Aye, guardsman." The man replied and gave the common-born guard a bow. "I hope we meet on better terms next time."

"If there is a next time," He grumbled. The guard turned back to his friend and they began to chat about the weather, crops and other quite boring things.

Smiling to himself, he whistled a merry tune and found himself walking down familiar – yet wider – streets. He passed his own house, which – he noticed – had grown. He saw children playing near the front door, and he realized that he didn't know them. Were they relatives? Where had his family gone?

The children saw his approach and ran inside crying, "Momma, Momma!"

He left before "Momma" could come. He'd known strangers to chase those whom they did not know with sticks – or worse.

He turned down a worn street – one that hadn't been widened. He felt the familiar stones under his worn leather boots. He smiled at the street sign that marked his sweetheart's street.

She would wait, he knew.

-

"Momma! Momma!" The children cried as they ran to embrace their mother. She happily took them into a hug. "Momma! We saw a man outside."

She smiled. "You see men all the time, young ones." She smiled at them, "Now scat, your father's making dinner." All four ran, leaving the eldest with her mother.

The eldest smiled. She was five. "Yes, Momma, we do. This wasn't any man, though! He stared at the house, and sighed. When they all ran in, he kept walking." The eldest cocked her head sideways. "You remember when you told me about a man – my uncle – that left for war?"

"Honey," Her mother started. "Your uncle died in the war. How could you remember that? You weren't born, for goodness sake!" The mother knew her eldest was too smart for her own good.

"Momma!" She cried. "Listen! The man looked exactly as you said, only older. He was darker-skinned too! He had your black hair, and bright eyes 'the color of the sky' you said. He was tall and…" She searched for the words, "Big."

The mother shook her head. "He must just look like him. We got a letter from the army claiming he was dead."

"He's not dead!" She pouted. "I saw him. And if you don't believe me, go look yourself. I saw him turn onto Müllerstraße."

Hope churned in the mother's chest. "Tell your father I'll be late to dinner. Tell him to set an extra setting. I'll be back in a bit." She kissed her daughter's forehead and scrambled out the door.

-

The man described by the daughter walked on the street, hope straining in his chest. He walked up to a familiar door.

Nothing had changed.

He knocked.

Slowly, he heard scrambling and the door opened.

He smiled as his eyes took in the face of his sweetheart.

-

She rushed down the street. She had to spare him the anguish. She had to stop him. Her eyes widened as she saw her brother tap on the door of his sweetheart's home.

"No!" She tried to call in the crowded street. "No!"

-

"You…" She whispered, tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks. "Jon…"

He smiled and stepped into her house, holding he in his arms. "I'm back, Kay." He removed her weeping face and brushed the locks back from her face. His smile grew as he took in her storm-gray eyes.

Those were more beautiful than ever.

A man stumbled out from the hall. "What're you doing, scamp?" His words were slurred with alcohol. "Get away from me wife!" He slowly moved toward Jon.

Jon stepped away from Kay. "… Wife?" He asked, disbelieving. "But… you _promised_!"

"She's mine now, my Kay." Jon knew the man. It was the blacksmith's son, from just down the lane. When he and Kay had been courting, he had always jeered at her, and made faces.

"Why…?" He mumbled his face going from hers to the drunkard's.

Kay bit her lip, tears streaming. "Five years… Jon, that's a long time."

"Five years of _hell_!" Jon cried aloud, throwing up his arms. "I went through five years of living hell, wanting you to be mine, and this is what a get? A tramp for a fiancée, who went a married the drunkard down the street?" He shook his head, he heart breaking. "I wish you the best of luck, Kay." He stormed out.

"Jon!" She cried as he turned on his heel. His steps were like heavy footfalls and her husband grabbed her from behind.

"Who was that?" He hissed as he tugged her inside. "You looked quite comfortable in his arms, you know."

Kay turned her face. "My old fiancé." She looked at the man. "I'll make dinner." Her husband's eyes glittered and she knew dinner wasn't what he wanted.

-

Jon turned away, completely broken inside. That's when a hand brushed his shoulder.

"Jon?" A quiet voice asked. He turned. He knew that voice.

"Mary!" He exclaimed, holding her tight. She smiled and held him. Tears of happiness streaked her cheeks.

"I meant to tell you, hoping to anything that you would come home. My daughter told me you had passed the house, and I came to find you."

"To tell me beforehand, so I could be prepared?" He asked acidly. "I've wasted five years of my life, Mary."

"Come home with me, spend one night at home." She pleaded.

Jon shook his head. "I couldn't. I can't stay one more minute in this… place."

"Please?" For once, the elder brother sighed. His sister… his little sister of only thirteen when he'd left. She was grown… had children… a husband. "I knew you would, Jon."

"Only one night." He promised and they left Müllerstraße behind them. He wouldn't speak of Kay ever again. She had abandoned him, lost hope.

"We thought you were dead." Mary told him as they walked. "The army sent us a letter, saying your battalion had been demolished. We took you for dead."

"Yet I'm alive," Jon muttered. "I wish I weren't."

Mary shook her head. "Kay wasn't the lady for you, Jon. She was flighty. You weren't. Jon, look at me, I'm telling the truth. She's better off living with her mistake. She's seen you, and she'll regret it for the rest of her life."

Jon's blue eyes met his sister's. "You pass judgment easily, sister."

Mary shook her head. "I pass judgment only to those who deserve it, brother."

"I… I just…" Jon whispered as they turned off the crowded street. "I saw a girl of four or five out playing, is she yours?"

Mary smiled shyly. "Yes. Jeanette is a wonderful daughter." She told her brother. "After you were drafted, mother insisted I get married, I'm not sure why. I was wed to Rogan two months later. Of course, Jeanette isn't exactly five yet."

Jon smiled wanly. "You sound happy."

"I am." Mary whispered. "There was another girl, you know, one that pined for you."

Jon's eyes crinkled in amusement. "I doubt she's waited these five years, Mary."

"You pass judgment easily, brother." She quoted.

-

Ryan smiled. Mary had come back and was chatting with a deep-voiced man.

"Ryan!" Mary called. The girl of twenty stood and brushed off her dress. Mary was like a sister, a younger sister, but a sister Ryan obeyed.

"Coming, Mary! Who's home?" The girl thumped down the stairs and gasped as she saw the newcomer. "Jonathan!" She breathed.

-

"Ryan?" He asked, confused. "Why are you here, in Mary's house?"

Mary playfully hit him. "She's my guest, dimwit, and has been since my husband and I took ownership of the house last year."

"Mom and Dad?" Jon turned to his sister.

"Died in each other's arms last year." Mary's throat clenched. "I'm going to go check on dinner."

Jon turned to Ryan. "Why are you here?"

Ryan stopped dead in her tracks, her leather slippers not making a sound. "I've waited, Jon. I've waited six years."

"But-"

Ryan shook her redheaded head. "I've loved you longer and deeper. I've loved you since I saw you…" Her voice trailed off.

Jon's stomach somersaulted. "But… You've been nothing but a friend. You gave me no signs, no hints."

Ryan's feet led her right up to his and her bright green eyes took in his. "I gave you a million," She whispered. She stood on her tiptoes. Her full lips caught his by surprise. Slowly she released. "One million and one." She told him.

He swallowed the tears and heartbreak over Kay. Smiling happily, he held out his arm, "Come to dinner with me?" He asked.

Her eyes welled up with tears of happiness. "Anytime, my military man."

-

Jon decided that maybe mistakes turn out for the better. He only wondered what happened to Kay.

-

**A/N: Hope you liked it.**

**Review, bitte!**

**And a homemade chocolate chip cookie to anyone that can guess what 'Müllerstraße' means in English!**


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